


stuck (in my head)

by graveltotempo



Series: A Very Sterek Summer Fest 2020 [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski UST, Insecure Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Mentioned other characters - Freeform, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Post-Season/Series 02, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wow, how's the weather, why are ALL of my works mutual pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:47:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25627708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graveltotempo/pseuds/graveltotempo
Summary: 3 times Stiles was stuck at Derek's place because of the weather and one time Derek went to Stiles' place despite the weather.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: A Very Sterek Summer Fest 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851298
Comments: 3
Kudos: 305
Collections: A Very Sterek Summer fest 2020





	stuck (in my head)

**Author's Note:**

> i'll be honest... i am not quite satisfied with this piece, exactly. but it will have to do, sorry guys

**1.**

Stiles had always loved winter a lot more than he cared for summer. Winter brought forth a lot of things: hot chocolate, blankets, Christmas, snow, cuddles… what did summer bring? Oppressive heat and constantly wet patches on people’s clothing.

Even now, as he sat on the outdoor steps behind the - new and rebuilt - Hale House, under the shadow of said house, he couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably in his clothing. At least he wasn’t really doing anything other than going through the book Deaton had loaned him.

Meanwhile, the rest of the wolves were suffering out in the sun, training and jumping around with no shirts on.

Stiles was supposed to go through the book but the sight of them prancing around with their ridiculous physiques was unfortunately too distracting.

Especially the sight of Derek, with his ridiculous smooth chest and trousers that hugged his ass and thighs perfectly, and confident and sure manner in which he moved and -

“You’re staring,” trilled Lydia’s voice next to him, a slight twinge of amusement in her tone that had him snapping his head in her direction with a heavy glare.

“I was  _ not _ ,” he immediately tried to defend himself.

The red head did not appear impressed. “Were too,” she said instead, taking out her phone from her pocket. “You were staring  _ and  _ drooling.”

Stiles’ glare intensified, as he grabbed the book he was supposed to be reading and turned his body a little more in her direction. “You were the one staring at Jackson.”

“I was,” promptly agreed the girl, with a shrug, “And so were you. Why don’t you just ask him out or something?”

“Are you  _ insane _ ?” he hissed immediately, sparing a look around to see if the rest of the pack had heard or even been listening to what they were talking about. Erica was the one closest to them, clad in only a sports bra and a pair of shorts, but her attention was fully on her training. 

Lydia looked at him even more unimpressed than before. “The whole pack is tired of the two of you pining and staring at each other like love sick puppies. Just ask him out, he’ll say yes,”

Stiles stared at her for a few seconds. You see, on one side, this was Lydia Martin. As smart as he considered himself to be, Lydia Martin was a certified  _ genius. _ She was observant and always seemed to know what to and what not to do. She was a woman with a myriad of talents, a force to be reckoned with. Everything she had ever said was right.

On the other side, though, she was talking about  _ Derek _ . Derek  _ Hale. _ Derek Hale having a  _ crush  _ on him. Him!  _ Stiles Stilinski _ .

Now this was just crazy talk, because Derek… Derek was just. 

Derek was many things. He was handsome and sexy as hell. He was smart as hell, and incredibly resourceful. He was not exactly  _ kind  _ but somewhat… gentle. It was hard to pin point an exact series of words to describe him, but the word Stiles most often associated with him was  _ survivor _ .

Derek Hale was a survivor.

And he deserved so much better than a mouthy, contrary, ADHD ridden, 5’10, 147 pound of frail skin and pointy bones,  _ annoying  _ 17 years old kid.

And while Stiles was more or less ready to agree that Derek was aware that Stiles had some sort of infatuation with him, he was just as ready to state that there was no way in hell that Derek was attracted to him.

It wasn’t just his - misplaced and inflated, according to Erica - sense of ‘ _ I am not good enough’  _ talking. It was just the fact that Derek was in a place where - after kanimas, and hunters, and alpha packs, and nearly losing Boyd and Erica, and finding and then losing Cora - he was finally healing. He had no time for romance, and certainly no time for romance including Stiles.

He didn’t say as much to Lydia, because she, just as Erica, disliked hearing him ‘selling himself short’ (even though he was selling himself just right, in his opinion). Which was slightly weird and amusing, considering how long she had spent in freshman year and middle school letting him know - by not acknowledging him - how little she thought of him.

“No,” he said instead, grabbing a mini fan and turning it on. “Never going to happen.”

Lydia pursed her lips, but, as usual, knew better than try to force him or keep badgering. Instead she picked up her iced tea, taking a long sip and turning her attention to the rest of the pack just as they appeared to stop for a small break.

“Gatorade?” called Stiles, his attention also on the rest of the pack.

“Yes please and thank you,” groaned Isaac coming and dropping in the shade at Stiles’ feet. “I’m  _ too  _ hot.”

“Hot damn!” chorused Erica and Stiles at the same time, high fiving each other.

Lydia rolled her eyes, nose turning as Jackson dropped at her feet. “You guys stink. Do you  _ have  _ to sit so close to us?”

Erica bared her teeth at her. “You go jumping and fighting under the scorching sun and let’s see if you come back smelling like roses,”

Even when her tone was accusing, it wasn’t mean spirited in the slightest. It had now been a year and half since Erica turned, Lydia had basically joined the pack within the same three months of that. While at first they had been very uncomfortable around each other - double single child syndrome plus Erica’s ‘ _ I am used to be the only girl around these guys’  _ and Lydia’s ‘ _ I am better than all of you _ ’ - they were now as close with each other as Lydia had been with Allison.

“I’d rather not,” sniffed the red headed girl, picking up two gatorades from the ice water bucket next behind her. “Red or blue?”

“Always blue,” immediately said the blonde, grabbing the cold beverage gratefully. 

“Boyd?” asked Stiles, dropping a green one in Isaac’s expectant hands.

“ _ Light  _ blue,” answered the taller man, shooting a faux disapproving glare in Erica’s direction. “I am not a complete  _ psychopath _ .”

“You’re a criminal, Vernon Boyd. Blue is what the gods used to call ambrosia!”

“The gods? You mean those guys who threw a temper tantrum every time someone bested them in something and followed the lead of a horny cranky old man who  _ married  _ his sister and thought with his dick?” he asked, haughtily.

The blonde squirted her drink in his face in answer, rolling away quickly before he could return the gesture, and then cackling away with Isaac.

“Children,” sighed Stiles, shaking his head exasperated. He felt more than saw Derek approaching from behind him, and pulled out an orange gatorade, handing it to him before the man could even answer.

Derek took it from him, fingers brushing with each other, with a quiet ‘thanks’.

Lydia stared at him for a second too long, and Stiles rolled his eyes, turning his head around to ask Derek about the training session. The words however, died in his throat when he turned around and was faced with the sight of Derek drinking the gatorade.

He was just drinking, you might say. Everyone drinks. It’s no big deal.

Except for the way the sweat on his body trickled down his naked chest, the way his eyes were closed and his throat bobbed as he downed the drink, the way his arm bulged as he held the bottle, the way a little bit of gatorade didn’t end up in his mouth but was trickling down at the corner of his lips-

Derek opened his eyes, and they immediately found Stiles slack mouth and blown pupils staring back at him and…  _ no _ .

“I have to go right now immediately,” informed them Stiles, standing up immediately and nearly kicking Isaac in the face.

“What, why?” complained the blond, staring at him in confusion and refusing to move when Stiles tried to maneuver around him.

Erica and Boyd had stopped trying to empty their drinks on each other heads and were staring at him in confusion too, while Jackson wasn’t even paying attention to him. Lydia didn’t look impressed.

For the thousandth time Stiles thanked everything that was holy for the fact that he and Lydia had decided and managed to find the perfect spell work to hide their scents from the other werewolves, because other ways Derek would know that Stiles was getting turned on by watching him  _ drink  _ a fucking gatorade, and that was a humiliation he wouldn’t be able to come back from.

“Things to do, people to speak to, you know, the works,” he babbled, finally deciding to jump over Isaac’s supine form. “So I’m just gonna, um,”

He stopped his tirade of words as the feeling of Derek’s now cooler hand on his shoulder. The Alpha looked a little worried and constipated at the same time, but his gaze was firm. “You can’t leave, especially not with this heatwave and your jeep.”

“What’s wrong with my jeep?” he immediately found himself asking, ignoring how much faster his heart was beating at the feeling of Derek’s hand still firm on his shoulder. Only the knowledge that his heartbeat could still be heard from the rest of the pack helped him calm it down. 

Derek stared at him like he was stupid. “Cars get hot when you leave them in the sun too long. And considering where you parked your car, you’d get first degree burns if you climbed in right now,”

Which. Okay.

But Stiles couldn’t stand there one minute longer, especially when Derek casted a weird look at him and let go of his shoulder, instead squeezing the gatorade down his throat again and  _ nope. _

“I’m gonna go inside, yes, I’ll use, the book, yes, okay, bye,” he let out, voice embarrassingly high as he jumped past Isaac once more ignoring the blond’s complaint and disappearing inside without looking behind him.

Lydia entered the apartment after him ten minutes later, handing him the book he had said he was studying and had left at the bottom of the stairs.

“There, there,” said the girl, patting his shoulder while he cried out in mortification.

+++

**2.**

One advantage of having the Nematon in Beacon Hills was the stump’s ability of making supernatural inclined plants to grown all around the preserve.

At the beginning, when Deaton had told Stiles that being a spark had less to do with fancy hand movements and more to do with crushing the right herbs together, he had been disappointed.

He had thought that he was finally something more than the pack’s resident human - Erica had once called him the pack’s pet human, which had earned her a surprisingly brutal lecture from Derek that had warmed Stiles’ lovesick heart - and perhaps as much of a badass as the rest of them. Instead the man had given him a recipe, pardon, a herbarium and told him to fetch as many of the plants he could find on it and learn their properties. 

There were a  _ lot  _ of plants, and for each one he found, the other man insisted Stiles collect a sample and created his own herbarium. If the plant he found was rare, then he encouraged him on taking a picture for his herbarium and then try to grow it in his backyard.

If his father found anything weird about his son reliving his mother’s vegetable garden all of a sudden, he didn’t say anything about it.

Their relationship had improved vastly after he had found out about the whole werewolf thing post his attack at the hands of Argent Sr., which Stiles was glad for. The improved relationship part, not the beating, of course. It helped that after the whole discussion his father had - surprising everyone  _ but  _ Stiles - decided to help Derek and the pack as much as he could, as well as offering the Alpha werewolf a shoulder to share the burden with. Stiles saw the way Derek’s eyes had shone with unshed tears at the proclamation, and turned the other way.

The rain started abruptly.

Stiles was busy wondering if the new friendship between his father and Derek terrified him or amused him more while trying to track the place where he had last seen the greenilde -  _ helps healing, good against most poison and plant related wounds _ \- when the sky had basically opened the floodgates. He grimaced slightly, putting his phone in his pocket before he lost it in the mud piles quickly forming all around them.

He had driven to the Preserve, but his car was now a good forty five minutes away from where he was. Technically he could find his way back to it, but by the time he did he would be soaked if the rain didn’t relents, and he ran the risk of slipping in some puddle and braining himself against a tree. Which was not in his to-do list for today.

Without even giving himself much thought he proceed in the direction opposite of his car. After all the house was closer to him than the car, and if he hurt himself he was pretty sure he could scream and someone would find him quickly.

It was  _ nice  _ being part of a pack, he found himself thinking, even as the rain didn’t relent. Scott had been very silly at the beginning for resisting Derek’s offer. Derek wasn’t like Peter, and Scott should not have thought that he was.

Derek was nice.

Within fifteen minutes he was at his destination, the front door opening before he could even knock.

Derek pulled a face from the doorway when he saw him, wet like a kitten, shaking slightly, fist raised. 

“You look like a wet dog,” informed him the Alpha werewolf, even as he opened the door and stepped aside to let him in.

Derek was  _ not  _ nice.

In lieau of a reply, Stiles walked inside before shaking his whole body just as a dog would - and a way the rest of the pack had done often enough, though Stiles liked being alive and would  _ never  _ point out out loud. 

Derek’s face turned into an affected scowl. “Get upstairs in the bathroom before I decided to kick you right back out.”

There were a lot of snarky replies that Stiles had prepared, but the first part of the sentence had taken him by surprise. “Your bathroom?”

The Alpha shrugged. “Isaac is in the other one, and Erica would kill me if I let you use the girls’.” He spared him another unhappy look and moved closer to pull a leaf out of Stiles’ hair. “I’ll get you some clean clothes and leave them at the door. You know where the towels are. You’re making puddles. Go.”

Stiles, who had momentarily stopped breathing when Derek had moved closer to him, blinked and breathed out. “Yeah. Uh. Thank you!”

The werewolf just gave him another look, disappearing in the laundry room. 

Stiles shook his head again, leaving his shoes at the entrance and quickly walking up the stairs, pausing to wave at Erica and Lydia in the living room, before disappearing in the bathroom.

It wasn’t like Stiles had  _ never  _ been in Derek’s bathroom. Hell, he had been the one who had insisted for Derek to get a shower with dual control and an adjustable shower head instead of the boring one he had initially settled on.

But he had never actually used it. 

Except that one time he had had to wrestle Derek inside it after he had ended up bleeding and covered in rashes after an awful fight with a particularly vindictive mushroom.

He quickly stripped of his clothes and slid past the double doors of the shower, immediately glad for the easily adjusted thermal settings. He debated for a few seconds on whether or not to use Derek’s citrus shower gel, but after all,  _ Derek  _ had offered him his shower. It would be rude for Stiles to  _ not  _ use the shower gel. It wasn’t like he  _ was curious  _ on Derek’s reaction on him walking out smelling like his shower gel. That was just  _ silly _ .

By the time he finally left the shower - smelling like Derek’s shower gel - and wrapped himself in one of the various towels - that smelt like Derek’s detergent - he found - Derek’s - clothes already outside.

He had actually seen that particular green shirt on Derek before. He remembered because he had made a comment on how it brought out his eyes and then spent the remaining of the evening berating himself for it and fighting the sappy feeling in his chest when Derek’s ears had turned red and he had muttered a small thanks.

Did Derek remember that? Was there a reason behind him choosing that  _ particular  _ shirt for Stiles or was it simple coincidence?

The shirt smelt of the same detergent the towel did, but it also smelt a little bit like Derek. And no, Stiles would sit in a court of law and refuse to answer the  _ how  _ and  _ why  _ he knew what Derek smelt like. And he would deny the way he had picked up the shirt and sniffed it like a complete creeper.

Instead of letting his thoughts embark on very dangerous adventures, he shook his head and quickly dressed himself in the clothing that Derek had picked out for him, only slightly annoyed when the shirt’s shoulders hanged a little awkwardly on him and he had to pull at the string on the shorts so that they stopped sliding off his bony hips.

After a few more minutes he was back downstairs, hair as dry as it could possibly be without requesting a hair dryer and a glare for the storm raging outside.

“Oh, Stiles, we were just about to order pizza,” called out Erica, the first one to spot him when he walked inside the living room.

“Oh yes, get double pepperoni and,” started Stiles, voice immediately trailing off when he Derek turned in his direction and just. Froze.

Stiles had learnt to catalogue Derek’s expression as the months progressed, but he wasn’t sure he could tell what was going through the Alpha’s brain right then. His nose twitched and his eyes flashed red for a second, and still he wouldn’t stop staring at Stiles like… he wanted to… kill him? Eat him? He wasn’t quite sure.

“Oh my god,” groaned Isaac suddenly, and Stiles’ eyes snapped to him, ready to complain. But Isaac’s horrified gaze was on Derek, not on Stiles. “ _ Jesus. _ ”

The Alpha glared at him, even as the tip of his ears turned a little red, and he stood up. “I have to do a thing,” he grumbled, walking out, and ignoring Erica’s sudden cackles and Lydia’s unattractive snort.

Stiles turned to the trio with a confused expression. “What’s wrong with him?”

Isaac shook his head, still a little disgusted. “Born werewolves do weird werewolf things when they see someone in their clothes,” 

Stiles wasn’t quite sure if it was  _ good  _ weird or  _ bad  _ weird, since Derek had basically murder stared at him and then quickly fled the room.

“Didn’t need to murder stare me like that,” he complained, curling around Erica. “He could have let Isaac lend me his clothes.”

“Oh there would have been a murder if you showed up wearing  _ my  _ clothes,” informed him the man with a strange intensity on the word  _ my _ .

Werewolves and their weird possessiveness over clothing, man. They were weird.

+++

**3.**

Stiles loved pack meetings, he really did. The pack were his only friends, after all, and after more than a decade of  _ just  _ Scott, he was very much happy with spending as much time as possible with them.

Still, there were times where he just hated each and everyone of them.

“It’s like they were raised by wolves,” he grumbled, picking up a half empty bag of crisps that Jackson had forgotten on the couch. “Honestly, how hard is it to pick up after themselves?”

“No one asked you to do it, you know, if all you’re gonna do is complain,” pointed out Derek, the only other person in the house.

The brunet arched an eyebrow at the werewolf, unamused. “At least I’m helping clean after myself. Your ward left right with Erica and Boyd rather than stay here and help clean up.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Isaac isn’t my ward.”

Stiles smirked, “Funny how I never said a name and yet you still knew exactly who I was talking about…” he mused, ducking to avoid a can of coke being thrown at him. “You dick!”

The Alpha didn’t spare him any more attention, dropping everything he had found in a black bin bag.

It wasn’t like he hated it, though. Nor like it was something out of the ordinary.

In fact, Stiles would argue that this had somewhat become… routine, in a way. It was something almost…  _ expected. _

They would have a pack meeting once a week to discuss whatever supernatural shenanigan around. If something had happened, Stiles would show up with books and piles of research that he would then fine comb with Lydia’s help. If nothing had happened, Jackson showed up with a mountain of snacks and drinks that they demolished while waiting for Derek to order for everyone.

Then they would settle in, demolish the food and fire up the television, all the while complaining because Lydia and Isaac wanted to watch rom coms, Erica and Stiles wanted superhero movies, Boyd and Jackson refused to compromise on their thrillers and Derek just wanted to eat his pizza in peace, and “don’t you guys have a rota for who picks what movie each week? Just pick  _ something! _ ”

After the movie, they would spend a while longer eating, snacking and enjoying each other’s company, which was Stiles’ absolute favourite part of the evening. They would laugh about Coach and complain about Harris until it was time for everyone to leave.

Normally Isaac slept over at the Derek’s place, but often after pack nights he would convince Jackson or Boyd or Stiles to let him stay over at theirs for a bit, simply because he refused to help with the clean up.

And Stiles didn’t have the heart of leaving Derek alone with the mess he had very little with creating, because he had a  _ heart _ .

Okay, fine. He just liked spending a little more time with Derek especially when the rest of the pack wasn’t there to tease him (Erica, Jackson) or look at him judgmentally (Boyd, Lydia). 

“You done?” he finally asked, a few minutes later, when Derek brushed up a small horde of popcorn from under the couch and  _ how _ . Just  _ how _ ?

“Yeah,” answered the werewolf, looking up at Stiles with a small smile. “Thanks for helping.”

Good  _ lord _ . Who allowed him to smile like  _ that  _ with those white bunny teeth and that little crinkle in his eyes? Who  _ allowed  _ it and how could Stiles sue him and thank him at the same time?

He ignored how rapidly his heart was beating, shrugging as nonchalantly as possible. “Sure thing, dude, no probs. I’ll just get my coat and get out of your hair-”

“Don’t call me dude, and you can’t leave,” immediately answered the Alpha. 

Stiles turned to look at him in confusion, but Derek was staring outside with a grimace. “It’s hailing.”

For a second Stiles just stared at him in confusion. Then he blinked, quickly moving towards said window, and then groaning, dismayed. “Seriously! This  _ sucks _ ,” he grumbled, then shook his head. “Whatever, I’ll just be careful while driving.”

“Are you  _ insane? _ ” hissed Derek, turning to glare at him, and oh man.

Weren’t they over this growling, scowling and glaring phase?

Derek continued, face still annoyed. “You can’t drive like this. It’s too dangerous.”

Stiles rolled his eyes a little. He wasn’t stupid, he knew driving while it hailed wasn’t the best course of action, but he had promised his dad that he would be back early today. And,

“What, more dangerous that the creatures that bump in the dark that I dispose of every other week?” he asked, a single brow raised in defiance.

Derek looked even less impressed than before. “We are the ones fighting the creatures while you stay out of line of sure fire. So, yes, Stiles, more dangerous.”

The amusement quickly disappeared from Stiles’ face. He knew, of course, that Derek wasn’t being dismissive of Stiles’ presence in the pack; he knew, on a general level that this was Derek worrying for him and trying to find a way to keep him safe.

But fuck, this was Stiles’  _ weakness _ that Derek was shoving right back in his face. The fact that he was human, the fact that he couldn’t do as much as the rest of the pack could. That all he could do was mix herbs together and search on the internet.

“I make the plans that help defeat said monsters,  _ asshole _ ,” he hissed back, clenching his fists together at his side.

Derek crossed his arms together, brows furrowed a little. “And we take them down, because it’s too dangerous for you. Seriously, Stiles, just stay put till it’s over and -”

“ _ Fuck you _ , Derek Hale,” said the brunet, hotly, ignoring the way Derek looked at him in shock, and side stepped to lock himself in Isaac’s bathroom.

Moments later he heard Derek knocking at the door demanding to be let in.

He turned the tap open, opened the music app on his phone and sat on the ground, hugging his knees and glaring at the wall.

+++

**+1.**

“Very well,” said the Yuki Onna, watching the pack with an almost impressed expression on her normally impassive face. “I will leave and cease my snow, Hale Pack. You have my word.”

When it had started suddenly snowing in the middle of August, the Sheriff had showed up at Derek’s house with a pointed glare and simply said ‘fix this’. 

It was Stiles, of course, who had found the legend of the Yuki Onna and, cross referencing the copy of the bestiary he had made from Gerard Argent and the content he had stolen from Peter’s laptop, found enough truth to find and deal with the woman.

“Thank you,” answered the brunet with a crooked smile. “And sorry again for the whole ‘disrespecting nature’ shtick. The Hale pack vows to you we’ll do our best to stop the witches from continuing their necromancy ways.” He turned a sharp smile to Derek, teeth showing. “Right, oh  _ esteemed  _ Alpha?”

Derek fought back a wince at Stiles’ words, and gave the Yuki Onna a serious nod. “We vow.”

The woman nodded too, and within a blink and the next she was gone. Weren’t it for the snow that had stuck on the ground, one could have thought the woman hadn’t even be there.

“Finally,” complained Lydia, clad in her best winter jacket. “Snow in the summer might be an interesting phenomena, but I’d rather not have hunters at our doorstep wondering if it was a meteorological weirdness or if they could try capture a Yuki Onna.”

“Thank god for your only good for plans human, am I right?” asked Stiles, very calmly, and Derek flinched again. The brunet refused to look at him, heading up to his car. “I’ll see you guys around!”

“Bye!” called the rest of the pack, watching him drive away.

The moment the jeep turned the corner, though, Isaac was turning to stare at him with a glare that could rival Derek’s own. “You need to  _ fix  _ this!”

“I don’t-” started the alpha, but Erica was scowling at him too.

“It’s the second time in as many missions that Stiles leaves in a mood and you  _ let  _ him. What did you  _ do  _ to him?” questioned the blonde, hands on her hips.

Derek tried to scowl back, but the pack was fixing him with very unhappy gazes. He sighed, passing a hand on his forehead. “I don’t even  _ know _ ! Remember the other day, when it was hailing? I told him it was dangerous to go home like that and next thing I know he’s locked himself in Isaac’s bathroom and he’s  _ mad at me _ .”

Jackson’s eyes were narrowed. “Stilinski  _ always  _ makes sense, as much as it pains me to admit it. You must have done or said something.”

“What  _ exactly  _ did he say after you told him it was dangerous?” questioned Boyd, mimicking Jackson’s expression.

“He said… he asked if it was more dangerous than fighting monsters and I said yes, because we are the ones fighting the monsters and he stays out of the line of fire - ehi!” he shouted, pausing in his explanation to stare at where Lydia had just smacked his arm with a confused expression. “Why did you that for?”

“You called him useless!” hissed the red head, with a glare that would kill a lesser man.

Derek stared at her, offended. “I did no such thing! I said-”

“You  _ basically  _ said,” growled Isaac, “that all he does is make plans and then sit cozy while we do the heavy lifting. You basically said he’s a glorified cheerleader!”

“I didn’t-”

“It’s Stilinski!” huffed Jackson, shaking his head. “He’s got 3 complexes and half about being a human in a wolf pack, what did  _ you  _ think he’d would grasp from being told that the wolves were the ones putting their necks out?”

The Alpha made to complain, to say that Stiles knew better than that, then paused. Because…  _ did  _ Stiles know that? Did Stiles know he was basically the  _ most important  _ member of the pack, that they wouldn’t survive without him? 

Derek knew. The Pack seemed to know. 

He had assumed Stiles knew!

But how could he, he realised with horror, when he was a human who  _ had not  _ grown up with wolves, and who’s only information about wolves came from the internet, what he knew from hunters and what Deaton and Derek deigned to tell him?

“Fuck,” he finally said, and Erica rolled her eyes.

Isaac shook a finger in his direction. “Fix this,” he commanded, and Derek was already running in direction of Stiles’ house.

Because of the snow and the fact that he did not have wheel chains for the snow, he had left his Camaro home. Which was fine, cause you know, werewolves.

Still, it took him almost ten minutes of running before he finally arrived at the Stilinski residence.

The Sheriff’s cruiser was not in the driveway along side the jeep, so Derek didn’t bother ringing the doorbell, instead climbing up the roof and then sliding down to Stiles’ open window.

The teen was laying on his bed with a pillow over his face, and didn’t stir when Derek slid seamlessly inside. 

“You need to close your window,” said the werewolf aloud, pretending he didn’t find the way Stiles screeched, jumped and fell off his bed insanely amusing. “Someone might come in without you knowing.”

Stiles rubbed at his backside, throwing his pillow at the werewolf, who caught it easily. “There are exactly five people who insist on climbing through my window, and all five of them are because of you,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “What do you need? More research?”

Derek flinched a little, then sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that you’re useless and only good at research.”

“Really?” drawled the brunet, expression not changing. “Could have fooled me.”

“I’m serious, Stiles. You’re… you’re important to the pack,” he tried again. Stiles scoffed, and Derek took a step forward, trying to sound as sincere as possible. “You’re important! You are  _ integral  _ to the pack. Lydia only listens to you, Isaac trusts you implicitly, you  _ always  _ listen to Boyd, you’re the only one who can calm Erica and even Jackson looks lost when you’re not around. You’re important to the pack.”

Stiles seemed to have mellowed out a little, but he still squinted at him. “But I stay in the back while you guys fight,” he pointed out.

“What I meant by that, is that you make us fight harder. Not to protect you,” he hastily added when Stiles frowned, “but because we know you have our back. We can focus on the fight because we know you know how to improvise, how to help us if something goes wrong. I’m sorry for implying what I did, but if you get hurt, especially because of some stupid driving while it’s hailing, the pack would  _ fall apart _ .”

At this the other smirked, scratching the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. “Jeez, so many words, sourwolf. You’re laying it thick now. I get it-”

“I’m not. You’re… Stiles, you’re the most important member of this pack. You’re the  _ heart  _ of the pack. You’re our humanity.” He came closer still, putting both hands on Stiles’ cheeks automatically. “You’re important to the pack.”

Stiles’ eyes were a little wide as he stared at him, but he didn’t flinch back. He didn’t pull away. “To the pack?”

Derek knew what he was asking even if he wasn’t asking it. He focused his eyes on Stiles’ golden ones and refused to look down, least he couldn’t stop himself from kissing him stupid.

_ He  _ couldn’t initiate it. He was the Alpha. The power imbalance if he was the one to pursue Stiles wasn’t optimal.  _ Stiles  _ had to be the one to tip the scale.

Didn’t mean that he couldn’t show that he wasn’t  _ opposed  _ to it all. “Yes. And,” he swallowed. “And me. To me too. You’re important to me-”

He didn’t manage to finish, Stiles crashing their lips together in a breathtaking kiss that was all soft lips and teeth and tongue. Derek’s hands were on his waist in a second, but he didn’t do anything other than follow Stiles’ kiss, follow Stiles’ everything.

Of course that was when the pack climbed inside the boy’s room.

“Hey, Der, we’re locked out of the pack house and  _ oh my god, gross _ !” groaned Isaac immediately. “ _ Ew,  _ guys. Ew.”

Stiles stopped the kiss long enough to show him the middle finger.

“Oh they’re gonna be like  _ this  _ aren’t they?”

“Did you not remember the other day when Stiles came out in Derek’s clothes? I swear he popped a boner right there and then-”

“Shut up!” groaned Derek, ignoring the manic glint in Stiles’ eyes.

“Oh?” said the brunet, mischief in his expression.

Lydia didn’t look impressed. “What about when you were training shirtless and Stiles was losing his mind over Derek  _ drinking a gatorade _ . Didn’t you call it a religious experience or something?”

Now it was Derek’s turn to be immensely satisfied while Stiles’ entire face turned red.

Boyd shook his head. “You two are as bad as each other.”

And well. He wasn’t wrong.


End file.
